Games of Power
by Amber-and-Ash
Summary: Snape takes over from both Dumbledore and Voldemort. What is Harry prepared to do to survive in this new world? HP/SS slash, OOCness.
1. Where to from here?

**Disclaimer**: Anything you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling, etc.. I own nothing, make no money from anything, and am writing this purely for personal enjoyment. 

**Warnings:** HP/SS slash, OOCness, plot-light story, d/s, lots of pre-story character death. If you don't like the dark stuff, don't read this.

**A/N: **Unbeta-ed. No idea where I'm going with this one, all suggestions welcome.

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Harry woke up in the now-instantly recognisable hospital wing of Hogwarts. Recent events came back to him slowly. After all the preparations and the prophecies and the fear, Voldemort was finally dead. Killed calmly and without fuss by none other than Severus Snape, while he had lain there, near to death, on the ground.

"Harry! You're awake! Oh we've been so worried about you." A young mediwitch he vaguely remembered from school bustled over.

"How long has it been since…"

"Since the battle? A week."

"Dumbledore?"

"Didn't make it. I'm dreadfully sorry, Harry."

"Snape?"

"He's fine. He's working off his feet trying to get things organised."

"Get things organised?"

"Well, the ministry has been disbanded for too long now for that to be effective, and with Dumbledore dead, Snape's agreed to take charge of things until some sort of order has been restored. He's been a godsend. You'd barely recognise our grumpy Potions Master! "

"Oh?"

"Yes, he's been doing some amazing things. He believes that with all the misinformation and imperious curses that were flung around, that it's pointless trying to assign blame, so he's given everyone a blanket amnesty. He's being really strict with new offences though. It's amazing. It's safe to walk down Diagon Alley again. Hell, it's even safe to walk down Knockturn Alley. Oh, and he wants to see you as soon as you're up to it."

Dumbledore was dead. Voldemort was dead. He was a child who had been unconscious for a very sensitive period of time. There was no-one else in the wizarding world with anything approaching power, except for Severus Snape. Severus Snape, the new leader, 'for the time being'. Who wanted to see him.

--

As he walked into the room, Harry was aware that he had never been so close to death as he was at this moment. For all its terror, Voldemort's expression of power had always been on the childish side, impulsive and obvious. Snape would never be that clumsy. He shuddered as the guard closed the door, leaving him alone with Snape.

Well, no point in pretending he didn't know what was going on – that would make him more dangerous in Snape's eyes. Harry crossed his fists in front of his chest and slipped into a full wizarding bow.

"My lord."

A moment of dead silence, and then Snape started laughing.

"So, Potter. You finally choose to display some of that intelligence everyone kept telling me about. Do let me know what the occasion is?"

"I wanted to reassure you that I will pose no challenge to your power."

"Oh? Why ever not?"

"These divisions in the wizarding society will just lead to another war, probably sooner rather than later. I don't have the ability to reunite them. You do."

"How very noble of you, Mr. Potter. But somehow I find your altruism less than convincing. I suggest you try harder. I don't want to kill you, Potter, it would be politically inconvenient. But I will if I have to."

Harry's mouth went dry. But if Snape was going to kill him regardless, he would have sent him away with a pat on the head and a slow acting poison in his body. That he was willing to talk about it meant that there was something he wanted. It was Harry's job now to find out what that was.

"Should I start looking for a position in Antartica?"

"I don't think so, Potter. Ever heard the term, 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer'? It's a philosophy I subscribe to."

Damn Snape as his fondness for a verbal challenge. Why didn't he just come out and say what he meant?

"Then, My Lord, do you have any positions open in your household that I might be considered for?"

Snape pretended disinterest, drawing the moment out.

"Well, I could always do with a pet."

Harry felt his insides clench. He was no innocent; he had studied the habits of Death Eaters too thoroughly to not know what Snape was suggesting. 

"I see. Because that would reassure Dumbledore's faction just so very much."

Harry waited for Snape's typical anger at being questioned, but instead, Snape laughed again.

"Always were fast on your feet when it served your best interest. Well, now, Potter. Are you sincere in wanting to, how did you put it, 'reunite the divisions in wizarding society'?"

"Yes, My Lord."

"Very simple, then. When the Order is around, you are my apprentice, studying to master that final control over your powerful but erratic talent. When Death Eaters are around, you are my loyal, obedient pet. There's enough of an overlap for you to compromise in mixed company."

"And when we're alone?"

Snape tilted his head to one side, considering him.

"If I said you were to be solely my pet?"

"I'd say that I'm hardly in a position to negotiate."

"But it would be dangerous to push you too far?"

Harry shrugged. He could hardly deny the truth of that.

"And if I said both, would you be as sincere in performing your duties as one as you are with the other?"

"If you were as sincere in your … training for one as you are for the other."

"Then I think I may have a position available in my household. For someone who asks for it…_sincerely."_

Harry knew this wasn't just an opportunity to humiliate him. This was a test to see if he was willing to be humiliated. No, that wasn't it. This was a test to see if he was willing to be humble. He pulled on all the knowledge he had and what was left of his imagination.

Harry felt disconnected from his body, riding a high not only of fear, but also, frighteningly, of anticipation. As Snape's pet the only guilt he could possibly feel was in his failure to perform his duties, not in letting yet another person die because he wasn't strong enough, not in killing yet another person because he was.

Harry quickly stripped off his clothing, taking the leap and trusting to Snape to deal with anyone walking in. He then dropped to his knees and shuffled the remaining distance to where Snape was sitting. Rejecting the comparison with Voldemort, Harry didn't kiss the hem of his robe, settling instead for resting his forehead on Snape's feet.

"I beg the honour of serving you, My Lord. I swear I will serve faithfully and joyfully as your pet and as your apprentice, obeying you in all things and striving always to please you."

Snape leant forward and pulled his chin up.

"Very good, pet. I think you may have found your calling in life."

To Harry's surprise, he didn't have to try very hard to suppress his anger at Snape's words.

"Thank you, My Lord."

"You may call me Master. I accept your service."


	2. Opening Moves

_Disclaimer: Anything you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling, etc.. I own nothing, make no money from anything, and am writing this purely for personal enjoyment._

_A/N:   
- Work beta'd by Nikki. A million thanks. All mistakes are still my own.  
- There is no explicit version needed for this story yet.   
- Thank you for the extremely supportive reviews. This story is going to take second place to Atonement, but I will try to update when I can. Hope this chapter is satisfying ^_^.  
- (divergence into explanation of grammar in response to Eug) Firstly, thank you for taking the time to critique. Here are your answers: "He could hardly deny the truth of that" had an implied 'statement' at the end, referring to the statement Snape had just asked to be confirmed (in much the same way as one would ask "We need to leave at ten?" - to verify already known data) . It was a very colloquial use of the language which I should have formalised. 'Truth in that' is used to mean that elements of a collective are true while 'truth of that' is used to mean the entirety is true - e.g. "While there is some truth in your words, I doubt the truth of your argument." Hope that helped!_

**Chapter 2: Opening Moves**

The first act Snape committed as Harry's new Master was to send him to bed. Never in a million years had Harry imagined the game would start this way. 

"But I'm not tired yet!" he protested without thinking. 

"Did I ask if you were tired, pet?" 

"No, Master." 

"Then I suggest you do as I ordered. I had planned on introducing you to this slowly, but if you wish to discover the consequences of disobedience right this minute it can be arranged." 

"Yes, Master. I mean no, Master." Harry was irritated with himself – he had not intended to give Snape the advantage so quickly. Harry moved to pick up his clothes, but Snape waved him away. 

"Leave them. The flue connects directly to my private quarters. As you are still not well, you may sleep in the master bed and use the bathroom at will. Do not leave the bed for any other reason. And pet…" 

"Yes, Master?" 

"I will know if you touch anything. And if you do, I will ensure that you are in such condition that I may test my experimental skin regrowth potion on you." 

Harry shuddered – there was not a trace of hyperbole in Snape's statement. He did as he was told with renewed determination - he had no intention of giving Snape that pleasure. He would play his part; no more, no less. He stepped through the flue and quickly found the master bedroom. He made use of the bathroom and then settled into the overly large bed with a sigh. He lay staring at the ceiling and felt himself begin to shake. 

It was final, now. The time to run had been those few minutes between the infirmary and his first appointment with Snape. After that, the choices he had available to him had coalesced into two – cooperating or dying. Even if he had other choices, objectively, he had much to gain from cooperating. He would increase his power, and be in the perfect position to judge whether Snape needed to be removed. But he was under no illusions that this was going to be easy. He knew Snape. Snape would demand total control - control of his will as well as his actions. In the depths of his own mind he had to admit that the idea of giving up responsibility was tempting, but he didn't know if it would be possible for him to ever do it. He stared at the rich hunters-green curtains for some time until sleep unexpectedly claimed him. 

Harry woke to see Snape standing above him, casting a diagnosis spell. It was hard to judge the exact time, but all the candles had been lit. 

"You may get up for the evening. I have a guest coming for the earlier part, and I expect you to be on your best behaviour. Regard this as a test of your sincerity." 

Harry's lips tightened at the malice in Snape's tone. He might be new to this, but he was not the fumbling incompetent Snape believed him to be. He would perform appropriately. 

"Do you have any questions, pet?" 

Harry knew he was being baited, and not just about the identity of the guest – clothing had not been mentioned, and there was none laid out. 

"No, Master," he replied, deliberately cheerful. He caught Snape's lips twitch before he could control them. Score one to Harry, then. 

Snape led him through to the lounge. 

"Kneel here, next to my chair." 

Harry knelt down awkwardly. 

"You may sit back. You may sit back on your heels any time I am not interacting with you. Legs further apart, hands on your thighs and eyes down." 

Snape walked around him, nudging him into the indicated position, invading his personal space and heightening the awareness of his nudity. 

"I suggest you turn your toes in, it will prove to be less painful. Be quiet and stay still until I release you. I trust even you have the intelligence to understand so simple a concept?" 

"Yes, Master." 

Harry heard Snape sit down and open a book. After only a few minutes of silence, Harry felt an absolute overwhelming need to move. He wasn't in pain, really – his feet felt rather as if they were itchy, and fire ran down to his toes – but the strangeness of staying still was frustrating. The impulse to move snuck up on him whenever his mind was distracted by other thoughts. But soon all thoughts of his discomfort were interrupted by the chiming of the door. 

Harry listened as Severus stood and walked through to the next room. He prayed that the guest was no one he knew. 

"Wait for me in the lounge, Draco, I'll be right through." 

Harry winced. Of all people for it to be, it just had to be Draco. No wonder Snape had called it a test. He tried, rather unsuccessfully, to keep his breathing even. He wanted, desperately, wanted to bolt from the room, but that would be losing the game before he had barely begun it. Harry stilled as he heard Draco enter the room and come to an abrupt halt. 

"_You're_ Uncle Severus's new toy, Potter? Oh, this is just too excellent." 

Harry pressed his lips together firmly. Ironically, not responding to Draco's taunts was already something he was well practiced at. Draco walked forward until Harry could see the bottom of his robes. All thoughts of fleeing had now disappeared; instead, he felt nailed to the floor. He clenched his fists as Draco reached forward and grabbed some of his hair. He would not react. He would not react. 

"Draco, did I give you leave to touch my property?" 

"Uncle Severus!" Draco let go of Harry's hair and moved rapidly out of Harry's sight. 

"I'm waiting for an answer, Draco." 

"No, but…" 

"It seems you've taken leave of your manners entirely this evening, _Mister Malfoy_." 

"Yes, My Lord. Please forgive my presumption." 

"_Tormenta_." 

Harry winced as he heard Draco cry out. He felt torn – relieved that Snape had saved him from Malfoy, but more anxious about the future than ever. If Snape treated Malfoy like that - Malfoy, his little darling - what on earth was he going to do with Harry? Harry was even more disturbed by the fact that after the curse had been lifted, Draco simply took his seat and resumed speaking as if nothing had happened. Significantly though, no further mention was made of Harry.

Harry soon lost track of their conversation. He could feel the skin of his feet starting to prickle, and his knees and thighs were starting to protest the stretch. Despite his best intentions, his weight shifted abruptly from time to time – like something was giving way. The pain in his knees became forgotten in favour of the pressure of his heels against his thighs, and then that was replaced by the prickling sensation in his feet, which was in turn subsumed by the pain in his knees. 

By the time Draco took his leave, probably less than quarter of an hour after his arrival, Harry could think of nothing else besides his discomfort which by now was a constant dull ache in his lower legs. 

Snape saw him out, and walked back to Harry. 

"You may stand." 

Harry tried to get up, but collapsed immediately to the floor again. He couldn't judge where his feet were to use them to stand. 

"Use your hands, idiot boy." 

Harry levered himself awkwardly to his feet. He couldn't bring himself to straighten his legs. 

"Oh for heaven's sake. Sit down, then." 

Gratefully he collapsed into a chair, only for pain to explode in his feet as he took his weight off them. His calves still felt heavy and dead, and his feet like they had been plunged into boiling water. He felt shaky and weak, as if he had been doing something infinitely more tiring than simply kneeling in one position. 

"You performed… adequately this evening." 

Harry suppressed a surge of pride. Maybe he would win this one after all. 

"Now, tell me about your previous sexual experience." 

And then again, maybe not. 


	3. Assignments

**Disclaimer**: Anything you recognise belongs to J.K. Rowling, etc.. I own nothing, make no money from anything, and am writing this purely for personal enjoyment.

**Warnings:** HP/SS slash, OOCness, plot-light story, d/s, lots of pre-story character death. If you don't like the dark stuff, don't read this.

A slightly more explicit version of this chapter is available on my live-journal.

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"_You performed… adequately this evening." _

_Harry suppressed a surge of pride. Maybe he would win this one after all. _

"_Now, tell me about your previous sexual experience." _

_And then again, maybe not. _

Harry should have seen this conversation coming, but he hadn't. His 'previous sexual experience' was something he had spent a great deal of time _not_ talking about. He hesitated just a moment, but it was long enough to irritate Snape.

"Back on your knees. Maybe that will remind you to answer me in good time!"

Snape was standing so close to him that Harry was forced to slither into position. He remembered just in time to stay upright, leaving his nose only a few inches from Snape's groin. It had the unexpected advantage of concealing most of his face.

"Perhaps some simpler questions will be easier on your limited intellect. Have you ever had anal sex?"

"No."

"No, what?"

"No, Master."

"Once again, with a full sentence."

"No, Master, I have never had..." Harry gulped.

Snape grabbed his hair and pulled his head back to look into his eyes. "Are you planning on making me wait, pet?"

"I have never had anal sex."

"Oral sex?"

"No, Master."

"But you have at least exchanged favours with a dorm mate in the shower?"

"No, Master."

"Are you trying to tell me that your sexual experience has been entirely limited to the female gender?"

"No, Master. I mean, yes, Master. I mean..."

"You are a virgin," said Snape incredulous comprehension.

"Yes, Master." With the war, and the training, and the way his every action had been commented on by the press, it had just never seemed the appropriate time.

"Please tell me you've at least taken yourself in hand."

Harry took a moment to figure out what Snape meant by that.

"Yes, Master," he mumbled.

"Anything else? Anything at all?"

"I've... I've played soggy biscuit with the quidditch team. Once."

"Heaven's help us, we have more training ahead of us than I could possibly have imagined."

Snape continued speaking, but it was lost to Harry. His hearing was filled with static, and his vision tunnelled in on him. The wave retreated, and he became aware of Snape staring at him calculatingly.

"Well, it can wait for tomorrow. I could do with an early night. Make use of the bathroom and wait for me on the bed."

Harry groped his way through his ablutions, steadying himself against the wall. He barely woke up when Snape pulled his head up to attach a collar. The next morning, he reached up to stretch and was abruptly stopped. His arms were loosely chained through his collar. They had some play, but not sufficient to stretch or scratch. Further investigation revealed that one ankle was cuffed to the bottom of the bed. He turned over experimentally, and stilled at the sight of Snape.

A naked Snape. A naked and erect Snape that was efficiently stroking himself to completion. Harry watched in horrified fascination. Snape made no eye-contact, or gave any suggestion that he was aware of Harry. He calmly finished and cast cleaning spells on himself. He then disappeared into the bathroom, still without a word or a glance. Harry lay stunned while the shower switched itself on and later off. Finally Snape returned and removed the restraints from Harry.

"Master?"

"What is it, pet?"

"Why'd you tie me up? Do you think I'll break my word?"

"If I thought that, you'd be dead. It pleases me to do so – that's all you need to know. Now go clean yourself up."

Harry scurried into the bathroom, doing his best to conceal his own need. The temperature settings were warded from him, and set to tepid. Harry cursed Snape's pettiness. What possible purpose could there be in keeping Harry from a hot shower? Well, there were still other advantages to showers. Harry reached down, but was instantly brought to his knees in pain. When his eyes stopped tearing, he found that his palm had turned bright red. He washed it over and over until he admitted it was not going to return to normal. At Snape's impatient yell, he finished washing hurriedly, and limped back into the bedroom.

"So you tried to masturbate."

Harry hesitated.

"That particular spell is quite sensitive to intent, pet. Believe me, you do not want to try to lie to me."

Harry hurriedly discard the 'I was just cleaning' excuse.

"Yes, Master. Forgive me, Master I did not realise it was prohibited."

"I suppose I should stop expecting you to have half a brain. We'll leave that one as a warning, then. Unless you are told otherwise, you may not touch yourself sexually without explicit instruction, is that understood?"

"Yes, Master."

His hand returned to its normal colour.

"Which brings me to the first part of our training you will be doing while I am busy elsewhere."

Snape lifted down two books, and then opened up a cabinet to reveal a stone statue. It stood about three foot, and was half-goat, half-man. It was unclothed and unadorned except for a blue crystal hung round its neck.

"What is that?"

"Is your education so sadly lacking? It is a Satyr Stone."

Harry must have looked as blank as he felt, because Snape continued with an exasperated sigh.

"It's a semi-sentient object designed to collect sexual well-being. The supplicant services it orally until it ejaculates, and it releases that post-orgasmic bliss into the crystal. The crystal can then be tapped by another wizard. This crystal provides about 24 hours of well-being, and takes about eight hours to fill up. If the supplicant displeases the Satyr Stone in any way before the crystal is fully filled, the crystal drains completely, and the supplicant must start again."

Harry gulped. No prizes as to who the supplicant was going to be in this little exercise.

"It is one of the more ostentatious symbols of power, but it is also a perfect tool for teaching. It took some... connections, but this satyr body has been reworked to match my dimensions and preferences. When, and only when, you can present me with a filled crystal, then I will consider allowing you access to me."

Harry couldn't hold Snape's gaze.

"Stay in the master suite. A house-elf will be here with breakfast shortly, and I should be back by lunch. I expect you to have made good progress with both assignments."

Both? Oh, the books.

"Understood?"

"Yes, sir, I mean, yes, Master."

Snape glared at him again, but left without remarking on his slip. Harry edged towards the table. At least the books couldn't be too intimidating, could they? Harry picked them up. _On Apprenticeships – a Complete Guide to the Customs and Traditions_ by Octavius Vetus and _The Prince_ by Nicolò Machiavelli. On the other hand, he was generally better at practical tasks.

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